


This Must Be The Place

by plus_minus



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-06-09 15:42:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15270765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plus_minus/pseuds/plus_minus
Summary: Intimacy in five stories.





	1. Oerba

**Author's Note:**

> Just be be clear, there is NOT explicit content in this chapter, but the mature rating is established for the chapters after this one.  
> Also, thanks to SXM132 for beta-ing this chapter and the rest. You rock.

 

 

One of the elder tradesmen of Oerba gathers a few teenagers in the village, asking them to volunteer for a couple days journey. Riding on chocobos they’ll take a batch of supplies to barter at the marketplace of Kyne, a neighboring town. He explains that they’ll do it to teach the trade route to the younger generation, but what Fang hears is that the war with the vipers will be coming one day soon–even the young adults in the village need to be prepared to help keep the town supplied. It’s not just an opportunity to help Oerba, though; it’s also the perfect chance to be alone with Vanille. While the group heads into town to deliver the trading goods, two people will need to stay behind in the outpost cabin to cook the group’s dinner and prepare their quarters.

It’s a privacy that the two girls can’t get in their overcrowded village. When they sneak off to a nearby field of grass and flowers to fool around, Vanille never wants to strip bare. She’d die of embarrassment if they ever get caught. Fang has been patient, pretending that her hands fumbling beneath Vanille’s clothing is enough. But ever since Vanille admitted a few months ago that she was ready to have sex, Fang pledged that she would wait for the best opportunity. She knows that this trip has to be it.

With this idea in her head, Fang approaches the tradesman while he’s setting up his wares in the marketplace the next morning. She feigns confidence, standing tall as her heartbeat quickens. “Let me and Vanille be the ones to stay behind while the rest of you go into the village.” She gets nearer so passerbys won’t overhear. “And you can have two week’s worth of my wages.” The loss of money doesn’t perturb her. Much of it would be spent on gifts for Vanille anyway.

“I understand.” She’s irked by the smug smile on his lips as he says that. Instead of silently accepting the bribe, he agrees on the condition that she has to clean the chocobo stables at the outpost before they return to Oerba. Even so, it’s an easy agreement.

 

\---

 

Three hours. Based on what the what the rest of the group’s plan is, that’s about all the time Fang and Vanille will have alone at the cabin. Once they tie up their chocobos and put the ingredients for the stew in the pot on the woodstove, though, it’s closer to two. Even worse, their shelter ends up being more like a dilapidated shack, a single open room reeking of mold. Fang should have guessed that it would be in this kind of condition. If she was sharp maybe she would have brought incense or scented candles instead of the plain ones she just lit on the table. She tries not to show the disappointment in herself.

“Do you think they know what we’re going to be doing?” Vanille asks quietly as Fang pulls down the dusty curtains over the windows, blocking most of the glaring sunlight. As the younger girl stands next to the table, she fiddles with her hands, running her left thumb up and down her other index finger.

She doesn’t know about the bribe that happened for this to be possible. Hopefully it stays that way. “Let them think what they want. If you don’t want to do anything though, we don’t have to-”

“No, I told you we could. I want to-I want this too, Fang. I told you before that I wanted this.”

“I know you did.” The older girl paces across the room to join their hands together. “But I want you to be comfortable. So if you’re not or if you changed your mind, just tell me, alright? And we can stop.”

“I will.”

 

\---

 

Fang’s never had sex herself, but after years of overhearing or being a part of lewd conversations with her fellow hunters she knows enough to feel confident in her abilities. She knows that when pleasuring a woman, foreplay is important. So to make sure Vanille is comfortable before going further, they start out slowly kissing on one of the bunk beds, gingerly stripping clothing off of one another.

Sure, she’s seen Vanille completely naked when they’d bathed in the river and the creeks surrounding the village. But she’s never had Vanille lying naked underneath her, smiling from Fang’s last compliment about her hair looking beautiful when it’s down around her shoulders. Vanille had looked stiff and awkward before they’d begun, but now she relaxes beneath her hands as Fang nibbles and licks her ear, whimpering in a way that indicates she wants more. Fang pushes herself up from her position on top, desiring one last good glimpse of her lover before moving downward.

Her head makes a dull thumping sound as it hits the thick wooden support beam on the top bunk above her as she misjudges the amount of space she had beneath. A sharp jab of pain hits her. “Agh, shit!”

Vanille giggles while reaching out to give her hand a gentle squeeze. “You okay, Fang?”

“Yeah. Just fine,” she lies. While the pain subsides quickly, she still feels sour from ruining the intimate moment. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

Vanille’s never been one to need Fang’s charm. She likes her for her strength and protectiveness, which has been true since they were just kids. Still, Fang wants to be suave to make it more special. Vanille deserves better than to lose her virginity in a lousy place like this. Yet it's the best that Fang could do.

They end up tossing a mattress roll and some animal furs on the wooden floor. The heat and humidity make pressing down on blankets uncomfortably warm, but the arrangement may prevent Fang from making a fool of herself for a second time...


	2. Bodhum

On Fang and Vanille's second day on Cocoon, the younger woman was the first to wake up in Anima’s vestige. It was strange, being swaddled in old clothes and blankets; it had been their makeshift bed from the previous night. Even more jarring was the ceiling that the vestige made for them. It was so high above, it was like a stone sky.

But she didn't leave their bed immediately. If she was to move she would disturb Fang, since the other woman's arms were wrapped snugly around her. As the first minutes passed she wondered what to do. Her chest beat with tiny pangs of pain, overwhelmed by the day ahead of her. Fang was still hell-bent on searching for their Focus in an unfamiliar world. Vanille already knew what they were supposed to do, that they were to become Ragnarok and destroy Cocoon. Fang had nearly been successful at it. She couldn't remember any of it, but Vanille had pretended to forget it all.

If only that would actually make the memories disappear.

Growing worried by her thoughts, she turned herself around in order to face Fang. She began to kiss her. "Eager to get to the point this morning, yeah?" Fang teased lightheartedly as she awoke.

"Mhmm, I was just trying to wake you up the best way I could. Thought you'd like it, too.”

"I'm lucky you know what I like." She murmured as she moved her mouth towards Vanille's neck. "This is always the best way to wake up."

Of course, Vanille enjoyed showing this physical affection. But more important than that was the distraction it provided to both of them. As Fang worked her way down with her lips, Vanille could only think of the warm sensation growing between her legs. Her hands ran over the scars along with the smooth skin of her lover’s muscular back, arms, and stomach. Although Fang wasn't wearing her sari, they were both restricted by the fact that they were laying on their sides. Eventually Vanille guided Fang's shoulder towards the ground, determined to have her supine. She adjusted her position straddling Fang's stomach, humming contently.

"You interrupted me there," Fang protested lazily.   

Vanille giggled. "Well, you're the one that let it happen." She then gingerly peeled off Fang's bra. Her tongue circled around the nipple on her right before taking it into her mouth completely. She liked the way sucking on her lover's breast felt; the uneven texture, along with the tickling feeling that the hairs around it gave. Even better was the soft groans elicited from both of them as a result of the action. After she had taken turns on both of Fang's breasts, she started shifting down to her torso.  While kissing the muscle there, she slid her hands down the waistband of the underwear below. Vanille grinned deviously, satisfied in finding the other woman wet.

Her expression disappeared when Fang snatched her wrist, stopping her fingers from exploring further. Her other hand lifted Vanille's chin up as their eyes met. "You know I like it, I  _really_ like it when we're like this. But," she frowned, "I don't feel comfortable when I know I can't return the favor."

Vanille's stomach dropped. She was hoping that they could've had this moment without discussing anything related to the despondent situation they were in. But Fang was right. It was information they had both known about since they were teenagers: the emotional rush that sex brought would cause the brand of a l’Cie to grow, hastening the day that the person turned Cie’th.

The younger woman pouted, optimistic that this expression would work in her favor as it had in the past. "But _Fang_ , you don't have to. _Please_. It will help me relax if I make you feel good, and we both know that your brand’s frozen."

"When we complete our Focus we'll make love as many times as you want. But for now," Fang reached out to cup her face, "for now let's just relax before we start the day. We have a lot more to explore on Cocoon."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to SXM132 for the beta work. It is always appreciated.


	3. Luxerion

On the first night after their second stasis is over, they make love. Vanille turns her face away almost immediately after she comes. She is usually quite affectionate afterwards, Fang notes. While the older woman is hoping to have her own desires met tonight as well, maybe it's best not to continue. It's been a long day, and maybe her lover just needs some quiet to process everything that’s happened. Shrugging away her own crestfallen feelings, Fang leans down to place a kiss on her jaw. “Be right back, love. Just going to get myself a glass of water.”

She gets up from the bed, walking across two rooms to get a glass from a cabinet and pours water from the pitcher. What had they called this space, again? A kitchenette? The clergyman that had given them a brief tour of their rooms had used words that neither of the women had understood. But they had felt too indifferent to ask about what any of it meant. The two of them were more concerned about learning what had occurred during their long dream in crystal. So far, all of the people they’d met weren’t answering their questions about their friends or about Cocoon. They could only reply that any inquiries would have to wait until their meeting with the high priestess tomorrow.

Looking through the window by the sink shows a city that seems to stretch on forever. Luxerion, it’s called. Once again they are strangers in a strange land, but at least she still has Vanille. Even though that feels like enough, something’s not quite right; a few times the younger woman has complained of hearing quiet voices in the distance that neither the clergy nor Fang could hear. Still, there are no cursed l'Cie brands between them. It should be enough.

When Fang opens the door to their bedroom, the light from the hallway falls upon one of the beds, the one that will not be used tonight. The two of them had shared an amused look when the priest had shown them where they would be sleeping. Clearly this “Order of Salvation”, whoever they were, weren’t aware of the extent of their relationship.

The good mood from the silly memory is broken as she focuses her attention to the occupied bed. Vanille is crying. She restrains herself with tiny, broken sobs into the pillow.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Fang strides quickly back on the bed, using her other arm to prop herself up on her side, and gently glides a hand down Vanille’s arm. "I'm sorry if I got carried away. It's just been awhile, you know?"

The other woman turns her neck to look over her shoulder, sniffling. She fixates on the wall instead of Fang. "No. It's the voices. I thought maybe they'd go away if we tried, or maybe I could just focus on what we were doing...but they didn’t, and they’re a little louder than before. Nothing feels right..."

The voices. Why can Vanille hear them but she can’t? How can this be? Fang tenderly reassures her that it will be the first thing they talk to the high priestess about the next morning. It will all get sorted out. Temporarily satisfied by their promise, Fang holds her tightly as they fall asleep. It’s all she can do.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not posting this chapter earlier, August is a busy month for me. For those of you that have already seen the first draft of this work (posted during Fanille week 2018), I apologize for the non-unique content. I promise that the last two chapters will be new.
> 
> Thanks to SXM132 for looking this over for me. It's always appreciated.


	4. The Dead Dunes

Fang wakes up feeling sluggish. It’s to be expected, given all of the alcohol she consumed at last night’s summer solstice party in Ruffian. However, it’s not much of an issue; she won’t be doing anything of importance until her post lunch meeting with Adonis, where they’ll sort out their next tomb exploration.

She rolls over in her bed, overextending her arm to reach the end table. There are things she’d _much_ rather focus on right now than more unexciting planning sessions. With the click of a button, the lamp emits a muted light. She yanks the drawer open, digging her hand around until she finds what she’s looking for in the pile of junk: a slim maroon box.

Inside the box lies a prayer card and a laminated photograph, but she only wants to look at the latter. The portrait is about the size of her hand.  In the semi-darkness, she squints to catch the details. She can just make out the embroidery pattern of Vanille’s robes. Her lips are upturned slightly in a serene expression.

During their third year in Luxerion, the Order had proposed a plan to commission and distribute prayer cards depicting the saint to all of their followers. Vanille was dour over the whole situation, horrified that she would garner so much attention. But since it would help boost the people’s morale, she’d agreed to it without complaint. Soon after, a photographer came to the Cathedral to take the photographs for the placards. The woman had fussed with Vanille to get the perfect shot, tilting her head this way and that, getting flustered if the saint couldn’t keep still. They’d repeated the whole process multiple times, with and without her prayer veil.

Fang was irritated as she observed the entire process. But the moment she saw Vanille smile for one of the poses, that feeling melted away. After the whole ordeal was finished, the brunette discreetly slipped the photographer some money, requesting in return that an extra print be sent to her. At the time, she had just wanted a permanent reminder of what her lover looked like when she was content. By then, her good moods had been a rarity, as she spent most of her days in a quiet sorrow that left Fang feeling helpless.

But perhaps her heart had known all along that she’d have to leave Vanille behind in Luxerion, and needed a keepsake to take along with her.

Fang loathes the photograph. It’s a reminder that they are apart from one another. With each passing day it taunts that some of her memories of Vanille may be replaced with ones of the forsaken desert or the activity of Monoculus.  She knows that her recollection of the precise details are already slipping. The way Vanille’s eyebrows curved elegantly, and how dark her eyelashes looked when she would apply makeup. The way she’d nervously wring her hands and stare at the ground. How she’d cover her eyes with her left hand when she bursted with embarrassed laughter. Fang needs to remember it all.

And not habits but moments as well, like that time they’d gone camping for the weekend. Fang had taken them to a site outside the village. It was a long hike away but it became a wonderful secret between the two of them. Fang wishes that she could experience it again. There are some things, however, that she can close her eyes and pretend are real...

 _‘I need you, Fang.’_ Vanille had gasped in between shudders, breath warm in her ear. _Desperate._ The whines Vanille had made after that...Fang concentrates on the sound in an attempt to overwhelm her senses. Soon, she begins to drag her hands over the spots where her lover had trailed hers those many years ago.

It has been a long time since Vanille has touched her in this way, longer than the year they’ve been apart for. They weren’t very intimate in Luxerion, as the voices of the dead tormented Vanille and ruined her concentration. She was considerate enough to try, but they could both tell that she was never fully _there_. Very quickly sex became routine fucking, scratching at an inconvenient itch. That wasn’t what Fang had wanted at all, and eventually she had stopped asking for it completely. Taking care of her needs in secret became less troublesome for the both of them.

Once she feels satisfied enough from looking at the photograph, she places it back inside the box before shoving it back in its place in the drawer. Then, after taking off her underwear, she unceremoniously slides her fingers down her torso and inside herself. Fang’s not particularly proud of this habit, but if it helps her cope with losing the most important person in her life, then so be it.

“I need you more, Vanille. I need you,” she whispers. The last sentence repeats over and over in her head as she tries to substitute Vanille’s electric touch for her own. She recollects the ways they used to moan one another’s name as they’d come, how Vanille’s high-pitched cries would turn her on. That thought, along with her own exertions, sends chills of pleasure up and down Fang’s body. She quickens the pace of her right hand, but it’s starting to cramp up on her.

“Dammit. Just a little bit longer.” She stops for a moment. When she continues, adjusting the pattern she works her hand in helps. The pleasant pressure between her legs start to grow.

“I’d do anything ‘Nille,” she begs, becoming less and less coherent as she approaches her peak. The feeling building up inside of her is overwhelming, but she craves it. Her hand works at a furious pace. “Just to f-feel you again. Just to…to...hol-hold-”

 _‘Anything.’_ The word fixates in her mind as she briefly seizes with pleasure. After her body relaxes, her chest swells with a few different emotions. Sadness. Loneliness. Longing.

She knows where this is going, as she’s accustomed to it by now. A tear from each eye rolls down her face. More threaten to spill forth, but she’s determined not to lose control this time. With clenched fists and teeth, her breaths exhale in shallow waves.

“Vanille,” she murmurs to herself, “I’ll hold you one more time, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

It’s a promise that she intends to keep.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to SXM132 for the edits. They were helpful as always.
> 
> Shout out to cougarlips, I posted this on her birthday! Thanks for your love and support, my friend!
> 
> You might have noticed I've been updating about every 2 - 3 weeks. I can't promise that chapter 5 will follow this trend as currently I'm struggling with certain aspects of it. Realistically, I think I can probably publish it within a month since it's nearly halfway done, but considering I'm busy (or going to be) on all fronts of my life I can't promise anything. But I'm also really slow at writing. Sorry :|


	5. The New World

_“Vanille, I never meant to leave you alone in Luxerion for that long. Those years we were apart were the worst of my life.”_

_“They were bad for me, too. But... we’re together now. Maybe that’s all that matters.”_

_(To Fang, Vanille is nothing short of a miracle.)_

 ---

All ten that gathered to fight Bhunivelze awake in the same area, somewhere in the woods, far away from civilization. They spend the first hours of their third day scouting, once again wondering if there _is_ any civilization, or just plants and wild animals. So far it’s been a fruitless endeavor, except for the discovery of the small abandoned house that they’ve been using as shelter.

Between the lot of them, it’s impossible to talk about the important things at length. But Fang informs Sazh of her departure before she leads Vanille away from the others. “There’s a place where we can be alone,” she whispers as she pulls her behind a grand oak tree, out of sight from the others. “And I’d like to have some privacy. If you’re okay with that.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dunno if things have changed, I guess. If what I’d like is what you want.” She shrugs. There’s a bluebird a few feet away. She watches it take a worm in its beak and fly back onto the tree branches above them.

It was strange, the way Fang was acting now, hesitating over everything. It was similar to the way she looked at her during their first conversation in this new world, a child-like earnestness in her uncertainty. ( _"You’d still want to be with me_ _—_ _right, Vanille? Even after everything that’s happened?”_ ) As if there was ever anyone else that Vanille would ever want. And now that her mind is no longer clouded by the sorrow of the dead, it gives her the chance to feel light again. To love in the way that she desires.

Vanille reaches up to put her hand behind Fang’s head and another on her chin, guiding it to face her so they can kiss. While she leans in to reciprocate, Fang chuckles good naturedly, having heard her reply loud and clear.

They’d made a promise many, _many_ years ago to always be together. Yes, they broke it more than once, over increasingly longer periods of time. Pacts that important weren’t made to be broken in that way, but they both decided that it would be forgiven. It was, after all, for a greater purpose: this new life that they could share.

 ---

“Noticed this place while Light and Noel and I were hunting. Light told me not to get any ideas when I pointed it out,” Fang recalls with a brazen grin, “but it gave me lots of ideas.”

It _is_ convenient, Vanille thinks to herself as they look upon the end of a winding ravine. There’s just enough space for two people to fit, and more than enough privacy offered by the surrounding rock and grass. She wonders how they stumbled upon it, but it’s too late to think about that now; at the moment Vanille can’t stop sighing while Fang has no restraint with where she’s placing her hands and lips. Maybe they’re moving a little too fast, but Vanille hasn’t felt a spark like this inside herself for many, many years. She’s certainly missed the feeling.

 ---

“Your scar here,” Vanille pouts as she drags her finger over the area beneath Fang’s collarbone, atop the uneven patch of skin that she’s settled her fascination upon. It’s slightly raised, wrinkled, and nearly half the size of her hand. “It’s new.”

“Yeah. It’s ugly, too,” Fang counters, having expected this sort of reaction after removing the long tunic that she had worn in the desert. To her, the marking is a testament to the Monoculus doctor’s subpar medical supplies and practices. She’d been lucky to survive the earth eater’s ambush in the tombs. While it’s endearing that Vanille wants to take the time to pour over the details of her body, she would much prefer taking off the few clothes left between them. But she lets Vanille have her games of taking turns with undressing one another achingly slowly. At least she can still get some enjoyment out of it.

The younger woman frowns. “It doesn’t make you ugly, but I’m not even worried about that. It must have _really_ hurt.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal.” She counters lightly, trying not to think about the sickening smell of her own infected flesh. Or of the feverish nights in the infirmary, struggling to cry out to reach the attention of the only nurse on the night shift. “You know, I like your hair braided that way. It looks really cute.”

“You said that yesterday, too. You’re changing the subject on me,” Vanille accuses. “I just feel bad you had to go through that kind of pain. Because of me.”

“I’d do anything for you, and you know that. _But_ ,” she drawls, brushing her index and middle finger on Vanille’s lips, “I guess, you could always kiss it better.”

“Okay then,” Vanille giggles as she leans in to satisfy the request. As she does so, Fang reaches underneath the hem of the slip that was buried beneath all of her ceremonial robes. She drags her fingertips around Vanille’s thighs before trailing them upwards on her soft belly, which must’ve always been kept full by the Order’s servants in Luxerion. Vanille’s making more noises of pleasure now. To get both of them more aroused, Fang reaches both hands beneath her underwear and squeezes her buttocks. “Fang,” she whimpers.

“Everything good, love?”

“Yeah, of course. But, I think” she speaks slowly, her breathing ragged, “I think it might be better if you were beneath me. Right now, I mean.”

“You know, I couldn’t agree more.”

 ---

The spark inside Vanille catches fire. It’s unsurprising that she doesn’t last long grinding against the warmth of Fang’s mouth and fingers. Relaxation runs its course through her body as she clutches the tufts of grass beneath her to keep from collapsing. She closes her eyes to recollect her thoughts in her daze, wondering how she could have gone so many years without feeling something as great as _that_.

Eventually she pushes herself a little more upright, but she’s still hunched over the ground. Fang slides out from underneath her legs, propping her arms behind her back. Their faces are inches apart. “Guess I still have it, yeah?” Fang notes, her voice matching the smugness on her face.

“Guess so. It felt _amazing_.” Vanille takes another moment to recover her own senses. “Want to see if I can get you to say the same?” she challenges in a playful tone.

“Please do,” Fang mutters, voice low.

“What would you like, then?”

“You know. What I like best.”

Vanille nods, adjusting herself so that she’s close to straddling her lover, who spreads her legs out in compliance. She then brings their hips together, moving slowly in circles against her. She’s careful to do this in a way so that she’s not arousing herself too much. After all, she needs to keep focused; there’s nothing like watching Fang getting worked up, the sight of her fingers curling, her eyebrows knit in concentration while her mouth hangs open slightly.  

“I love you so much,” Vanille says gently.

“I love you too.” Fang whispers, eyes glazed over with tears.

Concerned, Vanille stops, shifting herself forward as their lips meet. “I don’t want you to be sad,” she murmurs into her cheek after they break apart.

“I’m not, I promise. Just emotional, you know?” Vanille feels fingers brush gently through the hair on the back of her head. “I’ve been waiting too long for this.”

“I think I know what you mean.” Their lips meet one more time before Vanille slides downward. She once again gazes upon Fang as she moves, taking in is much as she can. Compared to Vanille’s skin, a monotone white as the pure snow of the mountains near Oerba, Fang’s uneven tan from the desert sun is like many pieces combined with one another. She is muscle and bones held together with a vulnerable tenacity.

“Oh, Vanille,” Fang groans. “I want you. Go faster for me, yeah?”

Once Vanille fulfills this need, it’s not long before Fang reaches her high. Her body shakes in fits as she cries out. When Vanille stops her movement completely, she finds Fang’s embrace. The older woman mumbles undecipherable words into the skin on her shoulder blade. They remain like that, appreciating the warmth of their bare skin against one another.

\---

“Hey.” Fang breaks the pleasant silence between them a few minutes later.

“Yeah?”

“We, uh—I told Sazh that we were leaving to go bathe in the nearby river. I want to be like this with you forever,” she sighs. “But we should do that at some point, you know. Before the others start to think we’ve run into trouble.”

“Oh. Sure!” Vanille lifts herself up. She contemplates the nearby pile of their discarded clothes. “Should we even bother putting those back on, or just carry them with us?”

Fang rolls her eyes and laughs. “The river’s about a quarter mile away, so let’s put ‘em back on. We can’t just walk around everywhere naked, you goof.”

The younger woman steals a quick kiss before standing. “True. You always _do_ have the better ideas.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, sorry for updating so late. I struggled with this more than I expected.
> 
> I really couldn't have done this without SXM132's advice and encouragement. Thank you for pushing me to finish because you knew it could still be a good last chapter.
> 
> This was interesting to write. Thank you for seeing it to the end.


End file.
